Page 16 of Damaged & Deadly
“Into me.”
Chapter 7
I won’t let them turn your brother into me.
I stare speechlessly at Dante as his words ring in my ears. Is that what his father and Santos are going to try and do? Turn my innocent baby brother into Dante? But even Dante isn’t who they think he is. He’s not the cold, detached, mindless soldier they tried to make him into. Although, he’s not without his scars. Whatever the hell they did to him, it left a permanent mark. I’d go so far as to say it came close to breaking him. In Dante’s eyes, theydidbreak him. But I can see what he can’t. The flicker of humanity trying to break free. Enzo sees it too. He stokes the flame at every available opportunity, giving it the oxygen it needs to survive.
However, a single flame isn’t enough. The only way he will accept that he’s not irreparably damaged is if I can turn that flame into a forest fire. Something scalding hot and raging that he can feel all the way to his core. I need the flames to lick at his soul and incinerate any doubt he has. Earlier today, he chose me over his father, and now I’m choosing him too. I won’t let Giovanni destroy my brother, and I won’t let him continue trying to extinguish the good that I know is inside Dante.
I’m not sure how long I hold Dante’s gaze. It feels like a long time, where nothing exists except the turmoil I can see brewing in his eyes. I can see the war raging inside him—the ice-cold, detached part of himself battling against that single flame. For the first time, I see the struggle he has to endure every day. I see the desperation, the fear. He’s terrified of what he will become if that spark is snuffed out.
Eventually, he blinks, and just like that, the shutter drops over his face, cutting me off. I offer him a slight smile of gratitude, knowing that even showing me that tiny bit of insight will have been challenging for him. Baby steps.
Exhaustion tugs at me as I down the last of my whiskey. “It’s been a long day,” I sigh, getting to my feet. “I’m going to bed.”
With a nod, Dante moves as if to follow me, but I stop him in his tracks. “No. I…” I trail off, not wanting to hurt him but knowing I need to just be alone with my thoughts right now. “I need to be alone.”
His eyes narrow and his lips purse, but before he can argue, I stride for the door. Half an hour later, freshly showered and wearing Oliver’s t-shirt, I climb into bed with my phone in hand.
“Hey, Trouble.” Oliver’s soothing voice comes down the line, making tears prick in my eyes.
“Hey,” I choke out.
“What’s going on?”
“Luc’s an Antonelli.” The admission is nothing more than a whisper as I struggle to wrap my mind around that sentence.
“What?!”
“Santos is his father.”
“Fucking hell,” Oliver murmurs.
“Yeah.”
We both grow quiet, lost in our thoughts, until I eventually confess my deepest fear aloud. “I don’t know how to get him out. And if I don’t figure it out soon, I’m going to lose him.”
“You won’t lose him, baby. We’re not going to let that happen. We’ll raze the goddamn city if that’s what it takes to get him back.”
I smile weakly at wanting desperately to believe him, but in my heart of hearts, I know he can’t guarantee that. Just like Enzo couldn’t. No one can.
“They know you destroyed their clubs,” I tell him, changing the subject.
He scoffs. “Don’t worry about that. We can handle a few Antonelli assholes.”
That may be so, but I’ve no intention of letting it come to that. Just another problem I need to deal with ASAP. I’m at risk of losing my brother, and I’m not about to risk losing my Rejects too.
He goes quiet on the other end and all I can hear is his breathing. My heart clenches, and I miss him with such an overwhelming ache that I can hardly breathe.
“Do you need anything from me?” he asks.
“You,” I breathe as a fresh wave of tears clogs my throat and soaks my cheeks. “I just need you.”
“You have me, baby. I’m here. And soon, you’ll be here with us.”
I want that, so much. But the thought of leaving here and never coming back doesn’t sit right with me either. I feel so lost; torn between two different worlds. Between two different sets of guys. And I have no idea how to navigate any of this.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice dipping an octave. “I’m right there with you. Can you feel me?”